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Ramblings of a Mad Man
Ramblings of a Mad Man
Ramblings of a Mad Man
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Ramblings of a Mad Man

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Influenced by his many years of traveling to different countries and meeting different cultures, the author has developed a unique view of the world, love, and himself. In this collection of poems, he takes a deep and honest look at this emotional journey. His fears, joys, woes, and hopes come together to paint a vivid picture of his mental

LanguageEnglish
PublisherTCXS
Release dateOct 19, 2023
ISBN9798868932779
Ramblings of a Mad Man

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    Ramblings of a Mad Man - Terence Stewart

    Rambling of a Mad Man

    By Terence Stewart

    1.

    Bear witness to my misery onlooker.

    See how what should not be thrives in the midst of its own perceived impossibility.

    Knowing better,

    I drown my soul in the sweet nectar of its poisonous fruit.

    I am satiated.

    The words of wiser men than me, sharp and pointed bounce from my throne.

    Here I am king.

    A king of fools

    but a king nonetheless.

    I suffer no chastening.

    My heart pumps and pushes wickedness through me.

    Terrified of changing. . .

    Terrified of remaining. . .

    I drown my soul in the sweet nectar of its poisonous fruit.

    And I am satiated.

    2.

    So often I long for the end of my race.

    The sweet symphony of life’s song,

    I find too much for my broken soul to bare.

    How does a man blessed beyond. . . so deeply crave freedom from it?

    The joys of life,

    shape blades twisted in my gut.

    The blood splatters against the mask I wear.

    We pretend to be and not to be under their protection.

    As of late,

    mine has become too heavy.

    My wrongs scream and howl.

    My rights question themselves.

    I am a bird with broken wings.

    A fish out of the calming push and pull of the water.

    I search.

    and search

    and search

    for my tormentor.

    Only to find myself holding the blade’s handle.

    I am he who hurts.

    I am my own despair.

    Am I addicted to the pain?

    Or addicted to causing it?

    Why do I simply watch as those I touch wilt and fade in my hands?

    This weight I bare. . .

    I am tired of suffering its load.

    But it begs the question. . .

    How does a man so blessed beyond. . .

    so deeply crave freedom from it.

    3.

    Now I am

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